


An Unfortunate Circumstance

by randomcanbian



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomcanbian/pseuds/randomcanbian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Passion often makes a madman of the cleverest man, and renders the greatest fools clever." François de La Rochefoucauld. </p><p>Liara T'soni, child of the matriarch Benezia T'soni, intelligent and wise among her peers, has fallen to one of the most potent, most common afflictions of her age. </p><p>A high school crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The humidity was unbearable. It made the locker room more uncomfortable than it was, and taking into account the number of warm, sweaty bodies wriggling about in too small a space, that was no small achievement. As if Physical Education wasn’t bad enough as it is.

Goddess, Liara would have hated the class. But even the right to abhor the one subject she was subpar in was taken away from her. More than that, it had become the highlight of her week.

It was all so terribly embarrassing, frankly.

Liara glanced at Jane, who was several lockers away from the bench the asari was sitting on, tying her short hair back into a ponytail. Lest it distracted her during class, Liara assumed. Why the human wouldn’t shave it off, as she’d seen some of her fellow schoolmates do, Liara had no idea. She’d look just as stunning without them, wouldn’t she? Although she must admit, the fibers do emphasize the attractiveness of her features, in a way Liara just can’t quite descri—

Liara closes her eyes. Looks away. Breathes.

Athame above, if she had been caught staring…

She stands up and composes herself. Uses her hands to unconsciously wipe away non-existent creases on her shirt and shorts.

A whistle slices through the room’s chatter, and the locker room slowly empties out. The nerves Liara always gets whenever she stares at Shepard transform into something akin to mild dread, if there is such a thing.

Ah, yes, the word she was looking for was anxiousness. Right.

Goddess, she hopes it isn’t dodgeball today.

///

As luck would have it, today’s sport was, indeed, dodgeball.

Coach Victus picked out Tali and Garrus Vakarian as the two captains, and after an intense match of Rock, Paper, Scissors—an archaic human game that was surprisingly entertaining—Tali had won, and had chosen Shepard as her first pick.

(Shepard was always first pick, if not the captain herself. She was just so damningly good at everything.)

Liara was her second, after Garrus chose Ashley Williams, due to some ancient, unwritten code that Tali said stated that you always had to choose your friends in situations such as these. Liara was sceptical at first of such a code existing, until she’d learned that it was a figure of speech more than anything.

(She’s learned to be less literal about things after befriending the quarian, goddess bless her.)

While the captains continued building up their team, Liara walked to Tali’s side. Shepard was already standing to her left, and as Liara passed by she gave her her signature lopsided grin. She had to will the blood to stop rushing to her cheeks.

“Hey,” Shepard said.

“Hello.”

“Do you want me to warn you if a ball comes your way this time, or should I just let you handle it?”

“Oh. I, uh…”

The risk of Liara blushing was increasing by the second.

Of course Jane remembered it. The last time they had dodgeball, someone in Liara’s team threw the ball at he accidentally. There was a high probability that Liara could have dodged it, but Jane called her out and told her to duck. Hearing Shepard say her name distracted her, leading her to get hit square in the chest. She was mortified, to say the least, even if Jane helped her stand up once she got her wind back.

As if sensing her inability to form a single sentence, Shepard continues. “I’m pretty sure I startled you the last time. I get into this headspace where I start shouting commands at teammates, so I sorta have to remind myself that there are people who’d rather I don’t do that.”

Jane smiles sheepishly after the last sentence, and Liara cannot comprehend how someone so attractive could look so adorable.

“It’s fine,” Liara replies, managing not to stutter, for which she is incredibly grateful for. “This time I’m prepared for people to scream waterfowl at me.”

Shepard snorts. “Waterfowl,” Liara hears her muttering under her breath.

The human looks at her in the eye and grins. “You’re cute.”

Shepard thinks she’s cute.

Kaidan Alenko stumbles into the space between them, looking to have been shoved by Jack, Liara’s unwitting saviour. Shepard goes to her, probably to tell the girl to play nice, letting the asari free to melt into a puddle of feelings.

Shepard thinks she’s cute.

Liara sighs, albeit happily. It is pathetic, she admits, but Shepard thinks she’s cute, so it evens out.

As soon as everyone’s been picked, Victus sounds the whistle, and the air is immediately filled with flying spheres.

Liara’s aim is enough, and her agility is above average, but she’s usually among the first half to be knocked out of the game. As allies and enemies alike fall around her, however, she finds herself among the few still standing. She wonders if the compliment she was paid had anything to do with that.

She manages to take out Emily Wong, and with no one else targeting her she allows herself to take a breath. Without prompt, her eyes land on Jane.

Shepard is a sight to behold. Four members of the opposite team have flanked her. Jack and Williams close in on her, and Jack lets loose her ball, with Williams following suite a few seconds after. Shepard jumps to evade Jack’s throw, and when she lands she rolls immediately to avoid William’s. Here as her back is turned Garrus throws his ball, and had it been anyone else it’d have been over. Shepard however, somehow manages to sense the projectile behind her, and spins away. The krogan Grunt takes opportunity to throw a ball at her head, but Shepard ducks, and it whizzes overhead, towards—

Miniature supernovas burst into existence in front of Liara’s eyes, as the ball hits her right in the face. There is a brief period of lucidity, where she wonders if the krogan had used his full strength, and if so would it lead her into a coma, before pain rattles her head and she falls on all fours.

Her mind swirls and throbs, and the motions do not alleviate even when someone calls to her.

Gently, her head is made to lie on someone’s lap. She wonders who it is, why she can’t see them, until she remembers that her eyes are closed.

She blinks, squints, but the image is still blurry and unfocused. Still, she knows who it is. She’d know those eyes anywhere.

“I didn’t know you were a quadruplet Jane. Wonderful.”

Four Shepards. Three more people to be hopelessly infatuated with.

Maybe one of them will take pity on her.

Her head hurts.

“T’soni, you alright for the walk to the clinic? Or should I call the doctor?”

She opens her eyes.

She didn’t remember closing them.

An old turian’s face comes into focus.

Maybe if she blinks it’ll be Jane again.

She blinks.

It’s still him.

“Ugh,” she groans.

Arms shift under her.

“I think it’s better we call Doctor Chakwas, Coach.”

Filtered voice. Tali.

“I can…I can walk Tali,” Liara forces out.

“Coach,” she adds.

Her head is still throbbing. She sits up, uses Shepard’s shoulder as leverage.

It’s very firm. Shapely. She likes how it feels.

“You have lovely shoulders Jane.”

“I—”

Liara stands up. Stumbles. Shepard is quick to catch her.

“Sorry,” she says.

“Li, you need someone to walk you there. Shepard, are you—”

“I can take her, it’s no problem.”

She feels her arm being moved, made to hang over Jane’s shoulders.

They really are lovely shoulders.

She leans into her side.

“Shepard, stay with her until I get to the clinic. I’ll have Williams grab your bag.”

“Yes Sir.”

“T’soni, I’ll be there once I dismiss the class.  Zorah, you okay with her things?”

“Yes Sir.” Hand on her shoulder. “I’ll drop by after, Li.”

Is the throbbing getting better, or worse?

“Thank you, Tali.”


	2. Chapter 2

Little by little, Liara’s senses came back to her. The throbbing in her head was still there, although fainter, relegated to the back of her mind as more current issues called to her attention.

Specifically, the distance (or lack of it) between her and a certain human.

Sweet Athame’s grace. She was hit by a krogan, and instead of worrying about a concussion she was focusing on how Shepard’s shirt was sticking to her skin.

“You okay?”

Shepard turns to her suddenly, eyebrow arched in concern. Liara jerks. It was instinct, looking away before she could be caught staring, but up this close it was more damning than anything.

Scratch that. Looking straight into Shepard’s eyes, _this_ close to her face, was more damning than anything.

Liara’s mouth felt desiccated. “Considering how I was hit in the face, by a ball thrown by a krogan, I’m doing rather well.”

That lopsided grin again. Goddess.

“Thought as much. With how insistent you were being about walking to the doc, I reckoned you had a hard head. Must have cushioned the impact.”

Despite herself, Liara made an indignant sound.

“I kid, I kid,” Shepard says, before Liara can reply.

Jane looks away, to the front, with what appears to be a look of contemplation.

“Is it just me,” she continues, turning towards Liara again, “or is it that every time we’re on the same team you get decked?”

“Decked?”

“You know,” she says, “knocked down.”

“Oh. Well, two instances don’t mean much, Shepard.” Don’t mind that both times were due to Liara being distracted by Jane.

Is Jane beginning to suspect?

“I guess,” the human admits, easing Liara’s fears slightly. “Let’s see what happens next time.”

“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Shepard chuckles in reply, and Liara sighs inwardly. She’d risk another blow to the head for the chance to have Jane beside her.

She feels ridiculous with how genuine the sentiment is.

The door to the clinic comes into view and, despite the desire to continue leaning against the human, Liara brings her arm to her side, then stands straighter to prove that she’s no longer in need of any help. Shepard protests, but the asari is insistent that she can walk by herself.

“Really Shepard, I feel better.”

Jane eyes her suspiciously, but Liara stares back with conviction. In the end, Shepard merely shrugs and jogs ahead to open the door for the asari.

Liara follows suit, but before she can reach her a voice calls out from within the room:

“Jane Shepard. I suppose it was too much for me to hope that you’d manage not to injure yourself for more than a week.” Despite what the sentence itself might suggest, the tone is more fond than annoyed, and the notion is reinforced by the soft chuckle that follows.

“Let me hazard a guess: a pulled muscle?”

Liara is smitten by the sheepish grin Shepard gives her, even as she tries to wrap her head around the voice implying the human to be prone to injury. A visit to the clinic every week? Jane moves with skill and purpose, every time Liara has seen her. She is graceful and agile, swift and strong; Liara knows this for a fact, because she’s seen Shepard dominate every sport they’ve been made to play in Gym, and then some.

It’s just…really hard to believe.

“Doc, I’m pretty sure I’m not that bad,” Shepard says, scratching the back of her head.

“Your medical file is eight times as thick as the average student’s, Jane. Take that as you will.”

Jane makes a(n utterly endearing) face. “Well, okay, whatever. Anyway, this time, you’re not going to have to deal with me.”

Jane looks at Liara, and the latter takes it as her cue to enter the room.

The clinic is clean and orderly, and (she assumes) well-equipped to handle the needs of the school’s adolescent population. To the side she spies a desk, and behind it a human woman, the streaks of grey in her hair an indicator of her advancing age. She has a kind face and a soothing smile, and Liara’s certain that these have made her job easier one way or another. She herself feels more at ease in her presence.

“Good morning, Doctor,” Liara says. The doctor smirks at Jane.

“Well, Miss Shepard, color me surprised. You’re about to break your record.”

“See Doc, I’m not _completely_ hopeless.”

Liara finds herself amused by the look of scepticism that forms on the doctor’s face. The familiarity between the doctor and Jane in general was amusing, and in some way rather appealing. Due, most likely, to it being a manifestation of Jane’s ability to seemingly charm everyone she meets.

(How could she ever hope to—no, no don’t think about that.)

Turning to Liara, the doctor asks, “I hope Jane had nothing to do with your mishap Miss…?”

“Liara T’soni, ma’am. And, er, yes, she is entirely free of blame.”

Well not exactly, but she can’t say that without explaining, can she?

“Jane was merely kind enough to help me here,” she continues. “I was hit in the head with a dodgeball thrown by a krogan.”

“I see,” the doctor says with understanding. Liara realizes she has no idea what her name is. A quick glance to her desk reveals the name _Karin Chakwas_ in a delightfully antiquated wooden nameplate.

“Come here, dear,” Doctor Chakwas says, pointing to the seat in front of her desk. “Sit.” Turning towards Jane, who Liara sees is still leaning by the entrance, she adds “You too, Jane. No need to guard the door.”

Liara seats herself on the chair nearer the wall, and watches as Jane takes the seat opposite hers. _Hi_ , Shepard mouths, waving a hand and greeting Liara as if they did not just come in together. Is it a human thing? Because it’s ridiculous, and Liara wishes terribly that she didn’t find it so cute.

“You seem to be over the worst of it dear, but one can’t be too careful, particularly when a krogan is involved.”

“I understand,” Liara says, looking pointedly at the doctor and not at all at her fellow student, who was looking passively at the contents of the clinician’s desk. “I hope, though, that it doesn’t involve my missing the rest of today’s classes.” How can the side of someone’s face be so attractive? For Athame’s sake, it wasn’t even the full thing.

“It won’t come to that, Miss T’soni, I’m certain. Anyhow, I will enumerate a number of symptoms, and all I ask is that you answer truthfully and tell me whether or not any of these have occurred from the moment of the ball impacting you.”

“Somestudents,” she continues innocently, if one ignored the transfer of her gaze from Liara to Jane, who seemed to be deeply focused on the ceiling, “tend to downplay the degree of their injuries. They mean well, but it gets rather tiring treating a recurring patient for something that could have been avoided if they were more truthful.”

“I will doctor,” she says, smiling despite herself.

“I don’t want to be more trouble than I’m worth,” Liara adds at the expense of Jane, whose attention moves from the ceiling to the asari. She is partly pleased, partly flustered by the affronted look she managed to bring about on the girl’s face.

Meanwhile, Doctor Chakwas laughs, a sound that heartens Liara even more. “I’m glad to hear that. A number of people would do well to learn from you, Miss T’soni.”

Liara smiles demurely at Jane. She enjoys teasing her, but at this point it is all she can do to keep the blush threatening her cheeks at bay. They are friends, she thinks (she hopes they are, at least), but they have never talked for this long. Conversations prior that day were limited to small talk during gym, and greetings whenever they passed by each other in the hallways or in the cafeteria. Other interactions—if they could be counted as such—were mostly just Liara staring at an oblivious Shepard from afar. She wonders if she’s taking it a bit too far.

If Jane was at any way discomfited, however, she doesn’t show it. She is as good-natured as she always is, the mock-frown she had on moments before morphed back into an easy smile. Goddess, how Liara envies her composure.

Liara keeps her word as the doctor begins reading phrases off a datapad, detailing as accurately as she can which of the symptoms she experienced, and of those their intensity and time of occurrence following her run-in with the ball.

She can see Jane from the corner of her eye as she speaks. She panics for an instant when she finds that the girl has been looking at her for a while, but once it becomes apparent that the human was gazing into empty space Liara knows not whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

She hates how much harder it’s been to categorize her feelings as of late.

(Curse you, Shepard.)

Liara ends what is basically a retelling of the morning’s events, and as Doctor Chakwas adds to whatever notes she’s taken down in her datapad the asari’s attention is caught by the clock by the far end of the room. It’s around twelve minutes ‘til ten, and while her next class isn’t until after lunch period she’s not sure the same is true for Jane.

The clinic door opens just as she’s about to ask.  In comes Coach Victus, and the human girl all but jumps to her feet.

“Thank you for your help Shepard,” the turian says.

“No problem Sir,” Jane replies courteously. She bids him a farewell, and the doctor a more informal version. To the asari, she says:

“See you around, Liara. Hope your pretty little head isn’t too messed up.”

She flashes her a smile before exiting the clinic, leaving Liara to agonize over her wording.

 


End file.
